Brotherly Expansion
by jennii.b
Summary: Victor's violent nature goes head to head with a woman who stops him in his tracks... one who is every bit as savage and primal as he himself is. And one whose story is remarkably familiar. (rated for raw language & attempted sexual violence)
1. one voice

_**chapter 1**_

_**i hear your voice**_

The voice at the other end of the diner's long counter broke into Victor's private reveries.

"I'm looking for work. I'm good at a lot of things," she told the cook who was wiping his hands on a towel.

"I'll bet you are," the overweight guy told her-he was former Navy if the tattoo meant anything.

And they usually did.

"I've done short-order and waitressing before. I served, too," she gestured. "Medical corps."

"Yeah? How's your service record?"

"Impeccable."

He sneered. Victor understood the feeling. If she was white as the new-fallen snow, how come she was looking for work in this place? Especially with the kind of training the military gave its medical personnel. Add to that the pricey jacket, the good boots, and the well-bred mannerisms and things didn't add up. She should be looking for Joe-College and raising a passel of kids.

The cook/owner of the joint looked her up and down. "You never get in any trouble at all?"

"If I did I was smart enough not to get caught."

He laughed, throwing back his head. "All right, kid. I'll get you the forms. You can start tomorrow. Tonight if you're hungry."

"Tomorrow's fine. I can spend the day looking for somewhere permanent to stay."

"Just let me get copies of your i.d. and all for the books. You know the IRS..."

Victor watched out of the corner of his eye as the woman reached out for the man's arm. Her eyes were imploring.

"I'd rather do this under the table," she told him softly.

"No dice, baby. Everything's above-board here."  
"You can't pay me in cash?" she asked.

He shook his head. "You in trouble? This place is all I got. I don't want any trouble here."

"I'm not trouble," she whispered forlornly. "I just need to fly under the radar."

"You hiding from the government?"

She shook her head. "I told you I wasn't in trouble."

The big guy sighed. Victor could see when the woman decided it was a lost cause. "I'd like to help you..."

"It's okay," she told him, even reaching out to pat his arm. "I understand."

"If you leave me your number I'll ask around, see if anybody around here's got anything."

"I don't have one yet. But thanks," she told him. She rose, reaching into her back pocket for bills to cover her meal.

"No-that one's on me," the guy told her. Victor gave him big points for decency.

"It's all right," the young woman smiled. "I'm nowhere near there yet. Give it to the next sad story you get in here."

Victor tracked the young woman to her motel room.

He caught the door just as she pushed it open. To his surprise she ducked under his arm and rounded on him, not seeming perplexed at all that he was there.

"Come on, jackass," she taunted as she took a half-crouched stance. "Let's work out some frustration."

Victor's eye gleamed. Something in this woman called to him. It wasn't the usual heat he felt low in his belly. But he planned to get there. It had been a while since he'd indulged in any _extracurricular_ activity.

His lips parted to bare teeth in what could only be called a smile by the most generous of observers. To his adversary it looked like what it was-an eager snarl. She hissed at him and he nearly laughed.

"What the hell is that?"

Now it was her turn to grin. "Trust me, mister. You're going to end up wishing you had just walked right on by here."

"I doubt that. I think I'm probably going to enjoy this very much."

Victor lunged at her, catching her around the waist, and flung her in the direction of the bed. She turned her body halfway there, her feet digging in as she launched herself his way. Her jab caught him in the face, her kick in the gut. And her flinch gave him just a moment of pause when he caught her foot and twisted violently.

Ella let the motion bring her around, moving with it rather than resisting and ending up with a broken ankle.

"You're going to regret this," she told him as he loomed over her. "You're not going to be able to kill me. You may be bigger and you may be stronger, but I'm not dying. And I can take as long as I want to get my revenge."

Victor managed to secure her wrists when she brought her hands up at his face. "Then we may be here a while," he taunted. "I _am_ the thing that goes bump in the night. All the monsters your mother warned you were out there. The thing that makes your father reach for his gun." He lowered his face to her ear and hissed. "No gun can kill me."

She surprised him again when she cocked her head, her expression considering. She looked at his neck where she knew she'd caught him good with her nails. He was wondering about the implications when her teeth came down-hard-on his forearm.

Which may or may not have had the desired effect. He dropped her, but he also smacked her so hard that her head hit the wall on the far side of the room.

"What the hell are you?" he spat, squatting to force her mouth open. His hand was healing, but the puncture marks of her teeth were still plain. There they were, the impression of eyeteeth typically given to creatures of the wilds.

She growled, which was considerably less forceful since her vision had yet to clear. "Your worst nightmare," she told him weakly.

Victor sat back on his heels and looked at her. "When you said-before-did you say you weren't dying or that you couldn't die?"

"I'm not dead yet," she panted. "And I'll be damned if you're going to kill me."

"Huh." He reached out to offer his hand. "I'm going to say this once and trust me when I say that it's not something that often comes out of my mouth…

"I apologize."


	2. two cry

_**chapter 2**_

_**cry in your beer**_

Ella looked from his face to his hand and back again. She cradled the bone of her jaw. She healed, but it hurt like hell anyway. Of course, the way he'd yelped when she bit him, so did he.

"You scream like a girl," she told him, still not taking the hand. "And if you think you're absolving yourself of guilt because your little plan didn't work out, you're crazy."

"Certifiable. I followed you. But I wasn't ready to throw you down yet. I figured I'd get there, but that doesn't seem like it's happening."

"Oh, that's very reassuring."

Victor stood, his full height looming over her. He reached down, catching her wrist, and hauled her up. "Come on. Let's go get a drink. I have a feeling the explanations here are going to require at least a little liquid fortification."

"Have you lost your mind? I'm not going anywhere with you."

"The other alternative is to stay here and let me beat it out of you. But I'm going to have some answers, so get your bag and let's go."

Ella shook her head. She needed it handed to her. Something in his stance reminded her of a lost child-being tough because he thought he had to.

Victor led her through a maze of streets to a seedy bar where the only light came from dirty windows and the neon of ancient beer signs.

"So what's your long, sad story?" he asked as they hunched over the bar. She'd ordered a bottle of beer, cap still on. The mark of a suspicious customer. He approved. When she turned to look at him he saw the practiced gesture, almost nonchalant, of her finger running around the rim of the neck. He guessed that it was less the accomplished flirt's tease and more a casual way to make certain that nothing got added to her drink while she was distracted. "Smart girl," he nodded. "Somebody taught you well.

Ella lifted a brow. "I taught myself."

"Somebody you want me to kill for you?" he asked. He couldn't tell why the idea of her learning life's lessons the hard way had his hackles up.

"I usually take care of that myself. But if you want to leave me a card..."

He laughed. But he reached into the overcoat, bringing out a card. "These people know how to get in touch with me. If you ever need anything you go there. Don't take no for an answer and watch your back."

"Hmph."

"Story?" he asked.

She shrugged, then turned again to stare at the boards behind the shelves of liquor. "It's not all that it's cracked up to be. I was fostered out. My mother was institutionalized right after I was born. Some of the people I've talked to said she lost her mind long before, but I don't know. I only went to talk to her myself the one time. She was beautiful, but not well."

"Tough. Father?"

"He's probably what drove her over the edge. The reports are sketchy about what exactly happened, how things went down, but apparently my mother left her husband and moved in with another man. They had a child together, although there were rumors-questions-about whether the child was the first husband's or if their affair had started before she left him. It doesn't matter. Apparently the ex- or almost-ex-husband drank. A lot. And took it out on her. Which was why she left him. But the new guy-my father probably-maybe-he took her in and kept her safe. Until the first husband broke in and killed him. Which is when one of the boys-there were two before me, one definitely husband number one's, and the one I already mentioned-anyway, the younger one, who believed he was husband number two's, killed him. Apparently he knifed him. That part was confused in her mind. The kid ran away, probably because mommy dearest thinks he's a monster. Of course, we're all monsters apparently. That was the impression I got from her when I saw her in that hospital. So anyway, her youngest child runs away after witnessing the death of his father and murdering the murderer, and the oldest one takes off after him. She thought that the oldest boy had probably caught up with him and killed him. But bodies were never discovered. Authorities looked. Townspeople looked. Mother lost her mind."

"You don't like her very much, do you?"

Ella shrugged. "I had brothers out there and she-apparently-could do nothing but scream. I know times were different back then, but _Jesus_. What kind of mother leaves her child to shack up with somebody? That's what she did. She left the older boy-my oldest brother-with her first husband. The abusive, drunken bastard who used to beat the shit out of her. And she blamed him for killing her baby boy, who she fully believed was a monster until the day she finally just gave up and died."

"Passing was probably a blessing for her."

Ella nodded. "Yeah, but it was no help to me."

"Did you kill her?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I probably should have. I was angry enough to. I still carry a lot of that anger. I looked for my brothers. But they disappeared. I was hunting a trail cold for nearly two decades. The local wisdom pronounced them both dead-probably lost in the wilderness and were either killed outright or starved to death before becoming lunch for some animal."

"You looked anyway, though?"

She nodded. "I listed ads in local papers throughout the territory. I was an adult before I was able to do anything, so they'd have been in their late twenties, maybe pushing thirty. No one ever responded. It was a long shot. But I would have liked to have had family. Even if they were freaks or murderers or avengers."

"What was your name?" Victor asked with narrowed eyes.

"Illiana Howellton," she replied without thinking. "Ella."


	3. three intro

_**chapter 3**_

_**allow me to introduce myself…**_

The man beside her held out his hand again. "Victor Creed," he said softly.

She choked on her drink. "What?"

"Victor Creed. Your family's my family."

To say she was startled was an understatement.

"You're going to have to give me a minute here," she warned him.

He saluted with his glass. "Of all the gin joints..."

She lifted her bottle and clinked glasses with him.

"How do you know the family history?"

Victor chuckled. "I lived it. My father apparently shot Lord Howellton. Jimmy clawed him-our brother has these wicked...never mind. You'll find out. I didn't hurt him after he killed Creed. Up until a while ago we watched each other's backs. Jimmy was definitely his-unless the gene pool comes from our mother's side. Which is an unexplored idea. With you in the picture and the timing of your birth and the similarities, you must be his, too. I don't like to think about how that happened. Suffice it to say that he was a bastard. Still need a minute?"

Ella let out a breath. "I thought you were dead. _Long_ dead. And now you're alive. And you're a perv of some sort. To put it nicely."

"Yeah." He frowned at the wall opposite the bar. "About that. So-I'm really sorry now."

"As opposed to offering an apology?"

"An apology is about manners. Being sorry is something else."  
"Which one are you?"

He took an abrupt turn, still not looking her direction. "The one she left."

It wasn't the question she'd asked and they both knew it.

Victor figured he was being a bastard for playing the pity card, but he didn't want his baby sister dwelling on the idea of her brother brutalizing people for fun.

The woman beside him was horrified, even all these years later. She closed her eyes and nodded. "I am so, so sorry. I don't understand that. Even though he was abusive to her, she just left her own child with that kind of man? Abandoned him and expected him to turn out differently? If half her ravings were even close to true it's no wonder you're a little...twisted," she finished diplomatically.

Victor shrugged. "Honey, the world's full of monsters. By the time Howellton walked into her life I'd already exhibited the potential to fill my father's shoes and then some. Plus these..." He held out his hands, flexing his claws. "I don't blame her."

"I do," Ella declared, draining her beer. "I blame any mother who doesn't give her all for her offspring."

"She gave what she could."

"And how often do you track women to their lairs and force them to lay down for you?"

"Honestly? Not since Vietnam. And I kind of usually just pick them up and put them where I want them."

"Well, you're done with that now. Do you understand me?"

"You're my baby sister. Watch your mouth and the attitude."

She crossed her arms. "I am well able to take you on any time you want over it."

"I've been around at least a decade longer than you."

"Which puts you at?"

"Hundred-eighty. In November."

She laughed. "You're thirteen years older than I am."

"And still maintaining my girlish figure," he snickered. He finally caught the bartender's attention and gestured at their drinks. "Do you want something stronger?"

"Oh, hell, no. I just found out that I'm not the only sane survivor of a family bloodbath. My oldest brother, who tracked me down thinking I would be easy prey, is a freak-and I'm not talking about your physical attributes, there, I'm talking about the violent nature. No. I don't think I need to delve into anything stronger right now."

The bartender walked over to them, gestured with Ella's bottle, and popped the top while she watched. She appreciated him remembering.

"My sister's suspicious of nature," Victor told the man.

"Sister, huh?" he grunted. He looked between them. They favored sufficiently for it to be true. "I guess that's all right."

"When will you take me to meet James?"

Victor frowned. "He and I are not on the best of speaking terms right now. He went back to being a Canadian shortly after we pulled out of 'Nam."

Ella studied the ring of sweat her bottle had left on the bar. "A lot of men were damaged over there. Had you served long?"

Victor's frown was thoughtful. "Four wars," he told her. "Civil War, both the world wars, Vietnam. We've been taking care of each other a long time."

It made her frown. "That's a lot of blood for a man to remember in his dreams."

"I sleep like a baby. I don't have problems with blood. What do you do?"

"I was a nurse for war one and two. How did you get involved in the war between the states?"

"We moved around a lot as kids. Hang somewhere just long enough-but not so long that somebody noticed us. That could have gotten ugly. Ended up here, liked the ideals, like the freedom."

"Why didn't you find some nice mountaintop somewhere and stake your claim? Pick a different city to hit for supplies each time? Live low-key and off the land."

Victor didn't answer. Farming held no appeal to him. "This from a woman who went into the navy."

"Nursing mostly. Women doctors have always drawn more attention than I can afford. I went the shrink route when I saw the jungle wars looming."

"You were over there?"

She nodded. "I know what it did to you guys. And I don't know what the answer is, either."

"I wish you hadn't seen that."

She shrugged. "Shortly thereafter I decided that I was tailor-made for woodcraft. The new plan includes earning my keep as a ranger for the national park service. The retirement package's pretty good."

"What made you want to cook or wait tables?"

"I've done both before. I'm an excellent short-order cook. I can do a decent Flo. I need some ready cash so that I can go back to school. You need a degree to be a forest ranger."

"_Really_."

"Yup. And I'm going to need another fake i.d. to make that work."

That brought out a chuckle. He reached out and ruffled the hair on top of her head. That was when the waiter decided he really was her brother. "Come on. Let's go get your stuff out of that crappy room. Any fool with a decent-sized foot could knock that lock out."

"Where are we going?"

"I'm part of a special unit. I'll introduce you around there first, then get you settled near me at the compound."


	4. four nothing

_**chapter 4**_

_**nothing wrong with us**_

"Are you just immortal or is there more?" he asked as he got up and gestured her to precede him.

Ella narrowed her eyes at him. "You clawed me pretty hard," she told him.

"I did. I have pretty sharp claws. And already your flesh has healed. I've got that part."

"Can you or James transform?"

"Transform? I get pretty vicious. He's got these claws that shoot out of his knuckles."

"Huh." She thought about that and decided she would have to see it in action to understand the shorthand. "But you stay human?"

He nodded. "If you can call it that."

She pursed her lips. "I have pointed ears."

Victor nearly missed a step. "What?"

"I have strange pads on my palms and pointed ears. When I press my palm against a window or into the sand or something-look." She flipped over her hand as he held the door for her. The thick pads at the base of her fingers were each individually delineated. Where most people have a hollow, she had another tough pad shaped like a rounded maple leaf. Her palm print would resemble an overgrown dog's.

"Huh. Not all that useful in a fight. Tell me about the transformation."

"It's only a sometimes thing."

"It's probably what drove your mother crazy."

"Nah. According to the woman who took care of her, that was the hissing and mewling I did as an infant."

"She knew what was to come."

"I'm not ashamed, Victor."

"No reason for you to be."

"I can change physically. Be something else. You know?"

"Anything else?"

She shook her head. "Just animals. And not usually anything tiny. No scorpions or snakes or bumble bees."

"You've tried to change into a bumble bee?"

She shrugged. "I've tried on a couple of forms of dragon, too. They work out better. I usually have the best luck with predators. Which is actually okay, because most of the time when I transform I need something pretty fierce."

"Why the hell didn't you change when I was in your room earlier?" he bellowed.

"I thought I could take you. Then you gave me the best concussion so far and it became a moot point. I can only change completely when I'm focused."

"Well then buckle down and focus next time!"

She smiled up at him as she unlocked the motel room door. "I don't think I'm the one who needs behavior modification."

"You're going to be too much like Jimmy for your own good-I can already tell."

"What happened between you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "He lost his stomach for killing. I haven't yet. I've branched out and our unit is primarily involved in the capture and detainment of persons of interest."

"_Coool_."

"I'm glad you approve."

"Why are they going to let you park me in with you?"

"Because they don't have a choice. I'm the best at what I do and if they want me to keep working for them instead of against them they'll play the game my way. I didn't know about you. And you've more than paid the price for that." He sat down on her bed and looked up at her. "I would have gotten you if I'd known. I don't think Jimmy suspected either. Nobody'd told us she was expecting a child. I wouldn't have left you up there by yourself. We'd have gotten you out. I promise you that."

She nodded. "Things worked out," she assured him. "It'll be okay now. There's no telling how the tides might have turned if you'd had a baby sister trailing after you."

"Damn straight things would've been different."

As she locked the door and prepared to turn in her key and pay her tab she frowned.

"What now?" Victor asked. He was beginning to remember why he travelled solo. She'd straightened the comforter on the bed that he'd wrinkled when he'd gone apeshit on her and then when he'd gotten tired of waiting for her and collapsed across it from sheer boredom. The rinky-dink hotel room didn't have a TV, didn't have a radio, didn't even have patterns of cracks he could study while she tormented him.

"Will they let me have my car?"

"_Who_?" he growled into her face.

"Your unit. Usually only registered vehicles are allowed on bases."

"Forget it. We'll take my car."

"Then I want to get a couple of things out of my trunk," she told him.

Victor was muttering disparaging comments about the amount of stuff she required and just dumping her ass in the river and forgetting he'd ever heard her name when she pulled keys out of her pocket and headed to an ancient Ford. It was probably the very first mustang that rolled out of Detroit. The blue and white paint was immaculate. The tires were nearly bald and going flat.

"It's a wonder you haven't killed yourself driving this thing," he fussed. "This is a stupid car for a girl to drive."

Ella shot him a quelling glance. Her bottom lip came out with the new frown. "This is a fantastic car. I love this car. I'm going to keep this car forever."

"No, you're not. For one thing it's a highly recognizable car. For another, it's a ridiculous car."

"What do you drive?"

"A brand spanking new jaguar. If you're very good I'll even let you touch the key _or_ the steering wheel. Not both and definitely not at the same time."

"You have a strange sense of humor," she told him, disappearing behind the trunk lid.

He cocked his head when an enormous brown leather case came out to rest on the gravel at her feet. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a guitar case. If you're nice I'll not only let you touch it, but I'll teach you to play." She pulled the strap to a duffel over her shoulder, then stooped to pick up the guitar case and her bag.

He paused from bending to get her suitcase to wiggle the tips of his fingers at her. "Not with these...not likely."

Ella shrugged lightly. "You give up too easily. That's why there are guitar picks in every music store in the country. And they cost practically nothing, so you can buy several and decide which one feels right."

Victor shook his head. "I don't do music. I have an image to maintain."

"Music is second nature to us. Even before we stepped out of the cave we've drummed and hummed and listened. It's why our speech evolved. It's why we spent the dark hours carving spare pieces of bones to entertain children. It's why men and women will always come back together. Your voice is different than mine. Your body different. And because we're sensory-oriented we like the play-on-play of the different textures and sounds. It's all music, Victor."

Victor was shaking his head. "How much have you smoked in the last decade?"

She smiled up at him again. "Next to nothing. And I haven't disemboweled anyone who didn't deserve it. So shove it. And you _will_ learn to-" Ella stopped dead as Victor opened the trunk of a shiny black sports car. "_Sweet._"

"Ready to give up that piece of crap you're driving?"

"Nah. This country's been good to me. I'll stick to American metal. But good Lord, Victor!" He watched her examine his car. He liked 'em black, he liked 'em fast, and he liked 'em new. He showed a penchant for foreign design but there were some domestic companies putting out quality products, too. And he did love to run through them as fast as they came off the assembly line.

"Get in, Little One. I'll show you what it can do."

"What were you thinking leaving this kind of a car in this kind of a neighborhood?"

"I'm thinking that the last time I had to get a car replaced because of vandalism I made a pretty decent impression on the locals. I never found out exactly which group was responsible for it, but I don't think that's as important as the fact that there's not a kid or punk within a ten-block radius who's going to be boosting anything off any car for fear it's going to turn out to be mine."

"What did you do?" she asked disapprovingly.

"I left every one of them alive. For Christ's sake, Ella, it was just a car. But I did emphasize the fact that my cars are precious to me. I don't to drugs. I don't drink excessively. I travel for work a lot. I don't indulge in strippers or whores. I don't golf or play tennis or shoot pool. My one recreational hobby is my car and I expect it to be respected."

"Yes, sir, Colonel, sir."

"It's Captain, actually."

She smiled at him. "Good. I like that. It's comfortable and confidence inspiring. Someone with rank and responsibility, but not so much shine that you lose your mind with it."

Victor smiled. "I think you may be the most unique person I've ever met."  
She shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that."

He checked his mirrors before whipping out of the parking space into traffic, then took off like a shot. "Nothing wrong with that," he agreed.


	5. five open

_**epilogue**_

_**mountaintops**_

Logan shoved open the door to the retreat's main cabin and strode to the bar. Ella turned around in time to sigh as she caught sight of him.

"Logan," she said softly.

"You can almost smell the hot chocolate in here. What kind of a place is this?"

"The kind where I like my work and don't want any trouble."

He sneered. "Where's Victor?"

"I don't know. Please don't make a scene here."

Logan put his palms flat on the gleaming wood countertop and leaned over. "What is he doing?" he hissed.

"Everything okay?" a huge guy across the room asked.

"Everything's fine," Ella lied. She smiled. "This is my other brother, James Logan. Jimmy." At her partner's blank stare she added, "The middle child. The good, upstanding citizen."

Logan hissed. "You two are thick as thieves-you're telling me you don't know where he is?"

"Is he in trouble?" Ella asked.

"He's gonna be when I catch him."

"Okay, then. He'll call. He usually does every couple of days anyway. But he didn't tell me what his mission was or where. Just that he was going out for most of the beginning half of the week. I haven't actually seen him in a few weeks."

"Is that usual?"

"Damn it, Logan, you know Victor! Yes, that's normal sometimes. I don't know what jobs he's pulling. Now leave me-and him if you can't be nice-alone!"

"Enjoy your mountain lattes, there, little sister," he told her as he pushed away from the native hardwood.

"You could come just to say 'hi!' every once in a while," she told him as he turned away. "I didn't pick him first because I liked him best, Jimmy. And I don't take his side because I don't love you."

Logan shook his head. "I don't understand how you can condone what he does."

She shrugged. "Because he's my brother. It's the same reason I love you even though you're so hard and cold. I can't help that I was born any more than you can. I can't help what's in me or in you or in him. But I know what life's like alone. You found solace there. We can't. I don't hate you for the way you feel. Don't hate me because I won't withhold my love from him. He'll need it someday and I want him to be comfortable coming to me when that day comes."

Jimmy reversed course and braced himself on the bar to kiss the smaller woman's brow. "I don't know what to tell you, Illiana. I can't make promises. He broke everything that was inside me and I'm just doing the best I can."

She nodded. "But come see _me_ sometimes. Call and ask whoever picks up if he's here. I won't know about it. You won't have to deal with it and we can all pretend that everything's okay."

"It's not okay."

"Says you. My experience with normal is limited. I'm open to interpretations. Maybe we could jsut be okay-er than we are now."

"Jesus," Logan chuckled, ducking his head. "_Okay-er_. Okay, Illiana. I'll come see you. You'd better be here and not on that damned peak if I come all the way down off my mountain."

She smiled and reached out to squeeze his hand. "If I'm topside you'll just have to prove that you can still climb and come find me."

Logan slid his hand out from under hers and turned away again. It took Ella a few seconds to regroup enough to engage in busy work. It took considerably longer to find her even keel. Her brother did that to her. From Victor it was constant love and affection. He supported everything she did except for the brief stints in the Marines during the two desert wars. But since it had been their first opportunity to fight side by side she didn't regret it. The only thing she regretted was that Logan had been unable to join them. He'd still been Canadian. She hadn't been able yet to ask him if he'd served with any of the regiments that had supplemented NATO troops. Maybe he had and maybe he hadn't and she understood either way. Whatever had happened to him-whether it was something Victor'd done or not-it had snapped something vital and she couldn't get him to bridge that gap. For all the good her degrees had done countless other men, she couldn't connect with her own brother.


End file.
